Beautifully Broken
by GhostNox181
Summary: A mute orphan with no social skills. A striving musician who leads an unlucky band. When the two are thrown under the same roof, will he be the answer to her prayers, or just another person using her for their own needs?
1. A Step In A New Direction

**Rebbie: Another one?**

**Me: I can't help it… I really think this one's got good potential…**

**Rebbie: So did the last four…**

**Me: Shut up.**

**Here we are, with yet another VenomShadowCatt production. How long will this one last? I don't even think God knows that…**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything… Such a sad thing to say.**

**Here we go!**

**Max's POV**

They were gone.

Gone. Just like that. No note, no letters, not even a single goodbye. Just gone.

I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Everything had gone with them. The house, the furniture, the money. Even my cat. The only friend I had.

It was all gone. In a matter of minutes, everything I had ever known was taken from me.

Was this karma? Had I done something someone up there hadn't liked, and this was my karmic retribution? Was this payback for something I didn't even know I did? Had I gotten on someone's nerves? Or was I merely too insignificant for people to care about?

Not that it mattered anymore, since everything was gone, and there was no way I was getting it back.

As I bent down to pick up the box that held the only pictures, clothes, and random items that had been salvaged, I looked up one more time at the remnants of my house. The fire had destroyed everything. The fire that some random arsonist decided to start. The fire that killed my parents, took away my home, and left me with nothing but the box I was holding in my arms.

I felt no tears, no anger or remorse, no sadness as the social services lady guided me to the cab, bringing me to the orphanage where I would spend the next few nights. I may have lost everything, but it means so little when you had nothing to begin with.

* * *

><p>"Max?" I looked up from where I had been sitting on the swing in the back of the orphanage, absentmindedly staring at the trees.<p>

The head of the adoption department, a kind, middle-aged woman, was staring gently at me. Beside her stood a woman who looked to be in her late thirties with brown hair in a low pony tail and the same brown eyes as me. She was dressed very formally, in a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, but she looked at me with concern.

I stood up off of the swing and took a few steps towards the two women. The new woman held her hand out towards me and I stared at it for a few moments before turning my gaze back to the woman herself. She got the hint and brought her hand back to her side.

"Max doesn't really like physical contact." Miss Withers told the new woman who nodded as if she understood.

Miss Withers turned back to me and motioned for me to come inside. Following the two women, I passed kids playing in the various rooms of the orphanage. Most were a lot younger than me, for the older ones often got moved to foster homes or sent to group homes. I hated to admit I was lonely here, but at least I got along with the little ones.

We took our seats in Miss Withers' office, where she finally decided to introduce us. "Max, this is Valencia Martinez. Ms. Martinez, this is Max. Max, she's your aunt."

Miss Withers gave me a few moments to process this which was a good thing, because I was shocked. Mom had never mentioned a sister before. Then again, I didn't know much of my own mother's past, including her maiden name, so I didn't doubt she had a sister. But as far as social services were concerned, I had no living relatives.

"We didn't think you had any relatives, Max, until Ms. Martinez located us. She heard about your misfortune on the news, and called to see what your situation was. Which brings us to our current situation. Ms. Martinez has, if you would like, offered to take you in. Since you're sixteen you are fully capable of making the decision of whether or not you want to go with her. I just want you to know however, that getting adopted at your age is very difficult, and Ms. Martinez is very well off, and is more than capable than providing for you. It still remains your decision." Miss Withers informed me.

I just sort of stared at her. This morning, all I was worried about was whether or not we would be having the hamburgers Louis the cook promised us for dinner. Now, out of nowhere, I had been bombarded with the fact that I did have living relatives, one who did in fact want me, and that if I wanted I could be out of here by the end of the week. How on earth was I supposed to make a decision like that?

"Max, I just want you to know, even if your mother and I never got along, and I am assuming she never told you about me, that I still wish to try and be the best guardian for you." Ms. Martinez said to me. I was stuck. I wanted to stay here, where I had lived my whole life, but I also wanted to get out of the orphanage and into the real world where things were actually possible.

And that's why I found myself nodding. Both Ms. Martinez and Miss Withers smiled at me brightly.

"Wonderful. I'll have the paperwork for you tomorrow, and you'll be on your way by Wednesday." Miss Withers told me and my aunt. Dazed, I stood up, nodded to my aunt, and left the room, going to pack.

Was this finally a step in the right direction?

* * *

><p>The last two days had been a sort of blur, but now here I was, sitting in Ms. Martinez, sorry Aunt Val's, car on my way to my new home, which was three hours away.<p>

I never knew I had an aunt so close to my house before, and that fact pissed me off a little.

"So Max, just a few things before we arrive." Aunt Val began talking. I looked up at her from where I had rested my head on the window.

"I've adopted two boys. They're both your age, so I hope you get along. Their names are Nicolas and James, but for some strange reason they prefer Fang and Iggy. Now, Iggy's blind in one eye, but it really doesn't hinder him any, so don't try to help him with anything unless he specifically asks for it. I also have the neighbors over a lot, but you'll meet them later."

I had gone back to staring out the window, but I was still listening intently. What kind of person calls themselves Fang? And I was really looking forward to meeting Iggy.

"I hope you know, Max, that you are now part of the family. I want you to feel comfortable with us. I know it's going to take some time to get over the death of your parents, but I hope we can make it easier. If there's anything you need, just ask." Aunt Val said, sounding completely sincere.

I refrained from snorting. It wasn't taking any time to get over my parents. And while I was very interested in living with my aunt and her sons, I knew it wouldn't work out. As soon as I found a job and saved enough money, or turned eighteen, I was out of there. I wasn't sticking around for some relative who only decided to want me now that my parents were dead.

Aunt Val stopped talking after that and instead let me bask in silence, staring out the window as we drove through nothingness, leaving behind me my beautiful unknown town, and heading towards some upscale richer one.

I must've fallen asleep, because an hour and a half later Aunt Val was shaking me awake. "Max? Hey, we're almost there."

Blinking sleepily, I rubbed my eyes and stared out the window as big houses, really, _really _big houses rushed passed us. I thought maybe we were just in a ritzy neighborhood, but then Aunt Val pulled down her visor and pushed a button as we came near a gate that surrounded a very large, white house. And the gate _opened._

I stared out the window in awe as we drove up a huge driveway. The gate closed behind us, closing off a beautiful, lush, green yard with a huge fountain in the center, and beautifully sculpted bushes in random shapes lining the driveway. On the other side of the driveway was a huge field of flowers, with horses! I turned to look at the house, having to blink a few times.

The house was three stories high, bright white, had beautiful columns supporting balconies for the second stories windows on the side of the house that I could see. Overall, it looked like something that had popped out of a book. I mean, Miss Withers had said she was well off, but this? This was filthy rich.

"Welcome home, Max." Aunt Val said as she pulled her car into the garage that I hadn't even noticed.

Suddenly feeling crummy and pathetic in my worn and faded jeans and hand me down t-shirt, I frowned and got out of the car, opening the backdoor to grab my box, feeling even more worthless when I saw how little I had compared to how much she had.

"Come on, Max. The boys are at school, so it's just you and me for now. I'll give you a tour, and show you to your room, and then you can tell me what you want to do with it to make it yours." Aunt Val said, walking to the door that apparently led to the house.

Sighing, I decided to get it over with, and followed her into the house. I was half glad we walked into the kitchen, half upset. The kitchen was ginormous. The counters were made from pure white marble, the tile was so clean I already picture sliding on it, and there was even an island with swivel chairs and a chandelier. And I couldn't forget the fish tank or the flat screen. I felt my mouth start to drop but I caught it gracefully before it fell all the way. If this was the kitchen, I was afraid of what the rest of the house looked like.

She took me through the rest of the house, which I can't even begin to describe because my head got lost somewhere around the third room, so I had reverted to just being all wide-eyed and awed at everything. Now she was leading me up the main staircase to the second floor, where my bedroom was.

"Your room will be next to Fang's and across from Iggy's, but if you have any problems with that there's plenty of room upstairs. I just thought it would be nice for you guys to get to know each other. Don't worry; you have your own private bathroom." Aunt Val told me as we walked down the hall toward the rooms with the balconies I had seen when we arrived.

She stopped in front of the second door and pushed it open, allowing me to walk in first. And I nearly dropped my box.

The room was huge. I had thought the kitchen was big, and certainly the first three rooms, but this room was just huge. Sure, it didn't have much in it right now except for a bed with a white canopy and two white side tables, but it still felt homey. There were two doors aside from the one I had entered in, and she had said I had my own private bathroom, so I assumed one belonged to that, and the other must've been my closest.

But what caught my attention most were the French doors in front of me, leading to the balcony that overlooked the field with the horses. To say I was not in heaven would be a lie.

"So, Max, this is your room. You can do with it whatever you want. Just let me know." Aunt Val told me.

Eagerly, I put my box down on my bed and pulled out a notebook and pen and began writing things down. I glanced up every now and then to observe the room and see what else would be needed. When I was finished my list looked a little like: light blue paint, white dresser, a white bookshelf, blue rug, books, blue sheets, blue comforter, blue pillow, glow stars, black permanent marker, pencil set, sketch book, notebook, blue curtains, blue floor lamp, oh and new clothes.

I handed the list to Aunt Val who looked it over with a smile. "Clothes aren't your top priority, huh? I think you'll make one of neighbors have a fit with that attitude. I can see you like the color blue. Well this list shall be no problem. We can get everything on it tomorrow, and for now I have some blankets you can use."

Before she could say more there was a loud bang from the front of the house.

"Mom! We're home!" I heard a voice call out. Aunt Val smiled.

"Ready to meet the boys?"

**Me: Well? What do you think? It was just an idea I had floating around that I decided to post...**

**Rebbie: You always have ideas floating around…**

**Me: Go away. But anyways this is just an introduction to see if people like this idea and want me to continue it. Let me and... Review?**


	2. The Boys and The Band

**Me: Yep second chapter here already. Shocker, I know.**

**Rebbie: She's just typing this all in one night so she doesn't have to sleep.**

**Me: That's not true. If my mom knew I was still awake, I'd be dead.**

**Rebbie: Just get on with the chapter.**

**Me: OH! And I want to thank all of you for such positive reviews. When I opened my email I was literally taken aback… **

**Rebbie: Yeah, she sat there in shock for quite some time…**

**Max's POV**

I felt every drop of color drain from my face as every hint of excitement leaked from my body only to be quickly replaced by nerves.

"Don't worry Max, they don't bite. You look fine, and besides. They're your cousins. They have to love you or I'm kicking them out. Not really, but they're the sweetest people I know. You have nothing to worry about." Aunt Val assured me, but I still went numb as she led me out of my room and down towards the hallway. I heard some rummaging coming from the direction I thought I remembered to be the kitchen.

"Fang! Iggy! There's someone I want you to meet!" Aunt Val called as we neared the bottom of the stairway, and I looked up at her in terror. Really, I could wait. Or, you know, I could just never meet them…

I heard a muffled 'oof' and the sound of laughter, followed by two pairs of feet running out to the lobby. I stood with my eyes down as the feet entered the room and stopped in front of my. Comparing their feet at least, they were totally different. One had really light skin, and the other's was tan, with an almost olivey hue.

"Fang, Iggy, this is Max. Max, these are the boys." Hesitantly, I looked up.

I was met by two people who couldn't be more opposite in appearance if they tried. On the left stood a tall teenager, the one I assumed to be Fang for he was wearing all black, with real black hair and really dark eyes. I didn't think I had ever met someone with _real_ black hair before. He had a somewhat expressionless face, but his eyes were bright, which seemed a little odd since they were such a dark color. He seemed like a very perceptive person, from the way he was staring at me. It almost seemed like he staring into my soul, and though it was creepy, it was comforting all the same.

Standing next to him was who I could only guess was Iggy. Iggy wore a light blue shirt and khaki shorts, and he had pretty periwinkle eyes, and I tried to figure out which one was sightless but yet, they both seemed to be staring straight at me. He also had strawberry blonde hair and his face was just full of life and laughter, and I almost smiled.

Almost.

Iggy reached out a hand. I was beginning to see was Aunt Val had said about him not needing assistance. "Hey. I'm Iggy."

"Sorry, Iggy. Max doesn't quite like to be touched." Aunt Val explained, much the same way Miss Withers had.

"Hey, that's alright, I get it." He said putting his hands up in defense. I only got confused. Did I offend?

"Fang." The dark one told me, which I think was his way of introducing himself. Although, I kind of guessed already.

"I think she picked up on that, nimrod." Iggy said, punching Fang on the shoulder.

Which, you know, started a war between Fang and Iggy, who started calling each other names and seeing who could come up with better insults. I just stood there, lost, and feeling like I didn't belong.

"Yes, well, I'm going to let you guys get acquainted." Aunt Val walked past Fang and placed a hand on his shoulder, which cause him to stop arguing with Iggy for a second. She whispered something to him, which caused his eyes to shift from Iggy to me. I felt left out of a secret.

"Okay, now get along you three." She said as she left the room to go who knows where in this house.

"So, Max, where do you come from?" Iggy asked.

"I think now would be the best time to tell you that Max doesn't speak, Ig." Fang explained. That must've been what Aunt Val just told him. I felt my annoyance spike a little bit.

"Like can't, or won't?" Iggy asked, directing it at me that time.

"Um..." Fang turned to me, indicating it was my turn to answer the question. Instead I looked down at my feet.

"I'm thinking it's a won't." Fang said quietly.

Iggy whistled. "Wow. Someone who says less than you! It's a miracle! And… kind of scary. At least you're decently dressed, Max."

I sighed, frustrated. Turning away from them, I headed back up the stairs to my room to unpack the small amount of items that I had. I hardly noticed the two boys following me until I heard "No fair! She gets a private bathroom?"

Spinning around I glared at the guys following me. I tried to mentally tell them to get lost, but apparently they couldn't read minds.

"Need help unpacking?" Fang asked, and I snorted. Once he saw all that I had, he'd feel embarrassed.

I walked into my room and began removing items from my box, laying each of them down on my bed. They all still smelled of smoke and ash, but they were all I had.

"Is that all you have?" Fang asked and I nodded, staring at the three pictures, slightly burnt teddy bear, and few clothing items that were all I had left of my old life.

"Mom…er… Val is going to take you shopping tomorrow right? Because if Nudge sees this, she will definitely have a cow." Iggy said, staring around my bedroom in amusement.

"Nudge is our neighbor." Fang explained, though I was unsure how they possibly had neighbors. There was too much space around this house for there to be room for neighbors. And her name was Nudge?

"You'll probably be meeting her later. She was so excited when she heard that we were getting another person in our house. She almost threw a party. Actually, don't be surprised if she _does_ throw a party. I actually think she found out about you before we did…" Iggy mumbled and I grimaced. Nudge did not sound like my type of person.

"Well, we should probably be heading downstairs. Our band should be getting here for practice soon, and we have to set up. You're welcome to watch." Fang told me.

A band? In a neighborhood like this? I don't know, for some reason it just didn't fit. But, hey, I had nothing better to do. I had little to unpack, and I didn't have anywhere to go. I supposed I could watch their band for a little while.

I grabbed my notebook and a pencil and followed them through my door, down the hallway, down the staircase, down another hallway, and then I got confused so I just let my mind wander until we reached a door.

"Well, Max, welcome to the room of awesomeness." Iggy said as he pushed the doors open, and this time I did let my mouth drop.

The room was a huge dome, and you could tell that by looking at the walls, it was sound proof. In the middle of the room was a set of drums, actually two sets of drums, but one was put together and one wasn't. Along the wall to my left were a whole line of guitars, electric, acoustic, and bass, and on the opposite wall were an assortment of random instruments, including keyboards, tambourines, two violins, microphone stands, and even a cello. What caught my attention, however, was the marvelous, grand piano sitting in the far back corner of the room. It was a sleek black and had the top propped open, the white keys shining at me from where it sat.

Just like the one the fire had destroyed.

I quickly wrote something down and showed it to the guys. _May I?_

"Be our guest." Fang replied.

"Be our guest, put our service to the test!"

"Shut up, Iggy." **(Sorry I couldn't type be our guest and NOT put that in here…)**

"You're no fun."

I ignored their foolish banter as I sat down on the black cushioned bench behind the grand piano, running my fingers over the keys. It had been my most treasured item in the house, and it was gone just like everything else. I hoped I would be allowed access to this room to play this, to at least maintain some part of my old life.

Without really thinking, hardly remembering there were two other people in the room, I began to play. Nothing fancy. In fact, it was even in a movie. That's where I heard it and decided I wanted to play it. It's a chilling piece, called The Heart Asks Pleasure First, by Michael Nyman, most notably from the movie The Piano. I was home alone one night when it was on one of the older channels, and I heard the song and its haunting melody. It's both sad, and beautiful.

It's my favorite piece to play, because it reminds me of myself. It's prettier when there's a violinist accompaniment but I've never had one.

Closing my eyes, I let my ears and my knowledge of the song guide my fingers over the keys, playing the tune I knew so well. The melody started fast and then suddenly halted to slow down, picking up slightly, but no matter the tempo, or where the keys were, my fingers glided over the keys as they had been doing since I learned how to play the piano. My one semblance of normalcy.

When I stopped I heard clapping, and looked up in embarrassed fright. I had forgotten I was being watched.

I was even more embarrassed when I saw that there were two more people than before. I hated meeting new people, and I had already filled my quota for the week. This was sending my emotions into overdrive.

"Wow! Where did you learn to play like that? That's was amazing!" Iggy complimented me, fully entering the room.

I shrugged in response. It had always been something I was good at.

A guy wearing jeans and red t-shirt with some band name on it came over and introduced himself. He had honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and looked maybe a year or two younger than myself. "Hey. I'm Gazzy."

I raised an eyebrow at the name, but as usual, said nothing and turned to the other new guy. He was twirling drumsticks in his right hand, his left in the pocket of his ripped jeans, making mine feel less out of place. He wore a simple navy long sleeved shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were a beautiful green and he had shaggy brown hair covered by a backwards hunter green baseball cap. I was immediately enthralled by his character. There was something… intriguing about him.

Maybe it was just that he was a drummer. I had always loved drummers. Drums always seemed to be the wild instrument, whereas the piano was the tamed one. I was never allowed a drum set.

"I'm Sam." Drummer boy said, pushing himself off of the wall where he had been leaning.

"This is Max." Iggy introduced. He glanced at me then hid his mouth from me with his hand. "She doesn't talk." He whispered to the newcomers.

"She can hear you, idiot." Fang told him, hitting him on the back of the head.

"Someone who says less than Fang? Never thought I'd see the day." Gazzy said, shocked. And I couldn't help but think how much he and Iggy were alike.

"I know! That's what I said!" Iggy cried, picking up a green electric guitar from the rack on the left wall while Sam took his place at the drum set. Gazzy picked up an auburn bass and Fang stood in front of the microphone. I should've guessed.

Scribbling something down, I held up my notebook, but nobody was paying any attention to me. After a few moments of being ignored, I slammed my fist down on the keys of the grand piano, creating an echoing noise of notes that didn't blend. Everyone rushed to cover their ears before turning to look at me. I had my frown hidden behind the notebook that I was holding in front of my face.

_What type of music do you play?_

"Anything really. We do covers of any song we all agree on, and if any of us can write a decent song, we try it out." Sam replied.

_How long have you been together?_

"Me and Fang here have known each other since we were five, and we've always wanted to start a band. Gazzy's our next door neighbor so we met him when we moved here. And Sam's in all of my classes, so probably like, what, four years?" Iggy responded, and I had to admit it was the most serious thing he had said to me today.

_Do you have a name?_

"We're… working on it. We can't seem to agree on a good one." Iggy said, and for some reason I got the idea that it was because all his ideas were really dumb, and everybody else was just not creative. I think my expression gave that away because Gazzy started laughing.

Changing the topic, I scribbled something else down. _Do you do gigs?_

"Not yet." Fang told me. Wow, real informative.

_Are you at least trying for gigs?_

"Well we've been looking, but a lot of places near here require a manager or someone eighteen or older to sign you off. We've tried to get Val but she doesn't think a music career is the way to go, and both of our parents are too busy for that. We're hoping for one soon." Gazzy explained.

_Oh. Well good luck. You can carry on now, sorry for interrupting._

"It's no problem. Just sit back and enjoy." Sam told me and I responded by putting my notebook down and curling my feet up on the piano bench.

"What song?" Fang asked the rest of the band.

"How 'bout The Happy Nihilist? I still need to make sure I have the drums down for that one." Sam suggested, and there were murmured agreements, before Fang took his place before a mic stand.

Iggy tested his guitar a few times, then Fang started singing. And even I, who have absolutely no ability to judge musical talent, was able to tell he was good.

_**I am a happy Nihilist.  
>No absolute truth does exist<br>When I decide to shake my fist  
>I only got myself to blame<br>Cuz we're all players, and life's the game.**_

Iggy started up a little on the guitar and Sam came in lightly on the drums.

_**I only take what I need, I am so light on my feet  
>I will not stop or concede, I am not driven by greed<br>No moral compass for me, it's all just natural feelings  
>Existence has no meaning, there's no such thing as happy<br>But late at night when I sleep, I dream of more than I see  
>There's something burning in me, a driving need to be free<br>Why do I sit here and think, about the things that I need  
>There's nothing left to believe, oh is it all just a dream?<strong>_

That was when the song kicked off and Sam went crazy on the drums, with Iggy and Gazzy matching him with strums of chords here and there, in this amazing blend of sound, until Fang came back in with Iggy and Gazzy on backup vocals, and the song got better.

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else<br>But me**_

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else…<strong>_

_**I used to read everything I used to need nothing  
>I put my money on me, I used to be something<br>Now I can't see  
>Cuz I'm not happy<strong>_

That wonderful blend of drums and guitar and bass came back, along with amazing vocals, and I would have been content to sit there like a silly fan girl if it wasn't for the lyrics actually feeling like home to me.

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else<br>But me**_

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else<br>But me**_

Iggy, Sam, and Gazzy started singing Whoa-oh-oh over and over in the background, and their voices went together quite well. Then Fang came back in, while they continued their woahing.

_**Why am I haunted by the metaphysical?  
>Is it a cosmic lie, or is it literal?<br>The books I read that used to free my mind  
>Have made me more blind but the truth I'll find!<strong>_

The music suddenly halted except for Iggy strumming a chord here and there. The effect was stunning.

_**I was a happy Nihilist.  
>Now I'm wondering why I exist<strong>_

Sam shouted "1, 2, 3, 4!" and all the music came rushing back.

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else<br>But me**_

_**I taught this to myself  
>Piled books up on the shelf<br>But it still hurts like hell  
>To trust nobody else<br>But me**_

_**Whoa-oh-oh**_

They ended with a few awesome hits of the drum and a guitar chord then it was over when they all turned to stare at me, and I was both in awe, and feeling really empty inside. Not only had they just sung half of what I felt, but they had done an amazing job.

"No need to say anything, we're amazing." Iggy said, and Gazzy hit him over the head.

"What is it with you people and hitting me?" He complained.

I looked down and wrote something quickly on my notebook.

_That was great. You'll be playing for large crowds in no time. But I'm kinda tired, so I'm gonna head to bed early. Long day. See you tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Gazzy, Sam._

It was always fun watching people read my notebook, because it always took a minute for them to read, so it was a major delayed reaction from my perspective. Which is why it was funny when it took two minutes for Gazzy to respond with, "You too, Max!" after I held my notebook up. Sam responded with a nod of his head and a smile.

With a hop, I got of the piano bench and left the room, but I felt those creepy, all-knowing eyes of my new cousin following me out the door. It felt like he knew I was lying. It felt like he knew something. It felt like… he cared.

For once in my life, I didn't feel alone.

**Me: Yeah this was mainly to introduce everybody. Was that a little crush I saw forming on Sam from Max? And does Max have a new friend, one named Fang? Who knows? Read on to find out!**

**Rebbie: They can't moron. You don't have any more chapters.**

**Me: Well... I'm typing the third one now…**

**Rebbie: And what's happening in that chapter?**

**Me: Well… Max and Aunt Val go shopping, Max meets the neighbors, maybe has a breakdown, maybe not. Haven't decided. It's all good.**

**Rebbie: Since you don't seem to want to leave, I'll do it… Reviews?**


	3. Meet The Neighbors, And The Floor

**Me: Yep, chappie three already.**

**Rebbie: I am quite surprised. But shouldn't you write chapters for the other like... three stories you've neglected?**

**Me: Well I already have all three chapters started… So I don't see why I can't start this one.**

**Rebbie: I fail to see your logic.**

**Max's POV**

"_Mommy!" _

_No response._

"_Daddy?"_

_Again, there was silence. _

_Sighing, I let the door slam behind me. Locking it, I slipped off my shoes and made for the kitchen. Pulling a chair over to the cabinet, I stood on my tiptoes to reach the cereal bowls. Pulling the same chair to the next cabinet, I got out the yummiest cereal we had. Corn Flakes. Making a face as I jumped off the chair, I poured myself a bowl of cereal before returning the box to the cabinet. Then I opened the fridge to get the milk._

"_We're out of milk again." I told Cheerio, the cat. She purred at me, as if telling me it was okay. It was not okay. I had to eat dry cereal for the fourth night this month. And the month was hardly half way through._

_I wrote MILK on the notepad I kept duct taped to the fridge, knowing it would catch somebody's eye eventually. Probably the housekeeper. She always seemed to read my notes. Sometimes she bought me extra things too, but only sometimes._

"_It's just you and me tonight, Cheerio." I told the cat who had hopped up onto the table next to me. She blinked open one eye then went back to sleeping._

_After finishing my cereal I did my math worksheet and practiced my cursive for my third grade class, all while sitting at the kitchen table where I had view of the front door. Every few minutes I would glance up, but I knew better than to get my hopes up._

_Around eight or so I decided it was time to go to bed. I took a quick shower and changed into my Tinkerbelle pajamas, brushed my teeth, and crawled into my bed. After a few moments, Cheerio hopped up beside me and curled next to my head, purring to comfort me. _

_I stayed awake staring at my clock long enough to know that it was well after midnight before either of my parents came home. And neither checked to see if I was even home._

My eyes opened to the bright sunlight streaming into my room. For a moment I panicked, forgetting where I was, but then I remembered all that had happened, and my heartbeat slowly returned to normal. I rolled over in my bed, staring out my French doors at the bright blue sky that was staring back at me. It had been awhile since I had dreamt of my parents.

I continued to stare out the windows for awhile, until a knock sounded on my door. Since I obviously couldn't tell her to come in, since I assumed it to be my aunt, she came in anyway. I turned my head so I was facing her.

"I'm going to have to get you a bell or something. This no communication thing could pose a problem. Wouldn't want anyone walking in while your changing." She said, winking. I just rolled over so my entire body was facing her, and snuggled even farther beneath the covers.

"Come on Max, up and at 'em. We're going to go get your stuff for your room today. When the boys get home they can help us put everything where you want it. So why don't you get ready, and I'll be waiting downstairs. We can stop somewhere for breakfast." Aunt Val said with too much enthusiasm for me, especially this early in the morning. I glanced at my watch.

_Ugh. It's only ten._

Aunt Val laughed at my disapproving face and smiled once more at me, before exiting my room.

Sighing, I pushed the covers away and got out of bed, flinching when my feet hit the cold, hard wood flooring. I padded over to wear I had folded all of my clothes into a pile, and picked my nicest and cleanest pair of jeans and my only clean, plain white, button down. I put the button down on over the black camisole that was the only camisole I owned since I had been wearing it the night of the fire, and left the button down open, rolling the sleeves up.

Going to the bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth and pulled the brush the orphanage had lent me through my hair, mentally cursing the tangles that my dirty blonde hair seemed to attract so easily. I avoided looking into the mirror and left the bathroom as quickly as I could, pulling my hair back into a messy bun and grabbing my notebook and a pencil as I walked downstairs to see my Aunt waiting by the front door for me.

"Great! That didn't take long at all. I'm glad you're not one of those girls who stresses over their daily ritual. You're beautiful as you are, Max." Aunt Val smiled gently at me as I felt my face heat up. Nobody had ever called me beautiful before.

"Well, put your shoes on and let's go. I want to be home by the time the boys get back." I wrote something down on my notebook before glancing back up to her.

_Can we stop by Dunkin Donuts?_

My aunt made a face, but it passed quickly. "You like that place? Well I do suppose you deserve it. Just this once can't hurt. Sure, but we can't make it a habit." She said.

I blinked in surprise. This was entirely new side of her. Who says no to Dunkin Donuts? Well, I mean, unless you're a _Starbucks_ fan, but they don't count. They're rivals, so that's understandable. Something told me my aunt was against Starbucks too.

It actually took half an hour to get to a Dunkin Donuts; since apparently it wasn't a fancy enough place to be near her ritzy neighborhood. That sort of ticked me off, since it was my favorite place to get coffee. And since I had just gotten my license, I didn't want to spend all my gas money driving to the middle of nowhere to get my damn coffee.

When we got to Dunkin Donuts, Aunt Val refused to get out of the car, claiming she wasn't that hungry. She just handed me the money, seemingly forgetting I didn't speak, and told me to get whatever I wanted.

Shrugging, I wrote down what I wanted in my notebook as I walked in, and nearly ran into someone. I looked up, and felt my heartbeat double.

"Hey, Max. Did Val actually take you here? Wow. I didn't think she liked this place." Sam said, waving in the direction of Aunt Val's Porsche.

I stopped gaping long enough to quickly scribble, underneath my DnD order, _Aren't you supposed to be in school?_

"Well, yeah. But this is my study period, which means Dunkin Donuts break. I've got a chill teacher, so it's cool." I nodded, like it made sense. Which it didn't. After third grade, my parents took me out of school, so I didn't know what it was like to have teachers.

"You going in? The line's pretty long. I was going to leave without getting anything, but I can wait with you." Sam offered.

_I wouldn't want to make you late._

"Don't worry about it. I have Calculus next, and it's rare that I show up for that anyways. Come on, I'll even read your order for you."

Well, that did seem more appealing than having to make the cashier read my order. Sam was right, the line was long, and I would just take up more time.

So me and Sam walked into Dunkin Donuts together. He even held the door open for me. While we waited, I learned a lot about him, and though I didn't answer most of his questions, he was willing to answer all of mine.

Turns out he has three older sisters, his favorite color is green, his birthday is in August, and he's a junior, like me. He also has a golden retriever named Riley, which is where I actually shared that I wanted a dog, because I wanted to name him Darcy. He didn't have any problems with the strange stares people were giving us from how I was communicating with a notebook, and he stayed true to his word, ordering for me when we got to the front.

"So, we'll have a medium iced hazelnut coffee with cream and four splenda, a plain bagel toasted with cream cheese, a medium iced mocha latte, and a bacon egg and cheese on an English." He told the cashier, who rang it up. I began to pull out the money Aunt Val had given me, but Sam stopped me.

"I've got it." He said, as he paid for my breakfast.

My notebook was out in a flash. _You didn't have to do that. Aunt Val gave me enough to buy an ostrich._

"And how would you know how much it is to buy an ostrich? Anyways, I don't mind. You're new here. Think of it as a welcome gift." He said. I looked down at my feet to stop myself from smiling. I absolutely could _not_ get attached to this place.

When our order was called, we grabbed our food and headed out. I began walking towards Aunt Val's car when I stopped, turned around, and tucked my bag under my arm. With all my amazing skill, holding a coffee in my hand, I wrote _Thanks! See you?_

"No problem. Band practice, tomorrow. Don't forget to come and watch." Sam said, laughing slightly. I nodded, blushing a little.

Then I turned and practically jumped back into Aunt Val's car. I drank my coffee and at my bagel in a daze, thinking of tomorrow's band practice and seeing my favorite instrument and the only person to really connect with me. We drove for about ten minutes before the car stopped.

"Ah here we are! We should be able to get everything here." Aunt Val said.

I looked up to see what looked like a ginormus combination of a Wal-mart and a mall, only for the really rich. I knew that my parents could never have afforded any of these stores, simply because the outside of the giant building was so clean and shiny looking.

I got out of the car staring at the building with wide eyes. Was she really taking me shopping _here_? But as Aunt Val began walking away, I was left with little doubt. I was about to go _shopping_.

I had never gone shopping before.

* * *

><p>"How on earth can you eat that when you had that… stuff... for breakfast?" Aunt Val asked me, trying to disguise the disgust in her voice at the three slices of pizza and huge coke I was now downing. I could tell that she was very much against my taste in food, but I had to fend for myself all my life; I had grown to like foods that were easy to make and fast to get. Which meant things on my list included pizza, Chinese food, and Dunkin Donuts, which I had recently discovered were Aunt Val's three least favorite foods.<p>

I was finding more and more things to disagree with her about as the minutes passed on.

I finished my pizza and stood up, throwing my plate away and placing the tray on top of the trash stand. I was surprised this mall had a food court like this, to be honest. In fact, Aunt Val had even tried getting me to go to one of the fancier, more expensive places for lunch, but I could tell just by briefly glancing at the menu I wouldn't like anything on it.

So, grabbing my coke, I made my way to the bookstore, one of the last places to go.

We had already got all my furniture, and it was being delivered this afternoon. Aunt Val had used the concierge to bring my blue paint, rugs, lamp, comforter, pillow, sheet, curtains, and glow stars out to the car. I had chosen to keep my notebooks, all ten of them (I had tried to tell Aunt Val it was extreme, but she voted against me), my sketchbook, my permanent markers, and my pencil set with me. I liked to have those things with me at all times, especially since some of my best work went down in flames.

Browsing the aisles, Aunt Val told me she'd be right back. I watched her leave, before going back to looking through the books. Few caught my eyes anymore, what with the crazy vampire rage going on. Vampires were cool, back when they were feared by townspeople, turned into bats, and burned in the daylight. Vampires that sparkle or fall in love with pretty girls and _don't_ want to bite them? Crazy. Utter nonsense.

I went back to the front of the store and picked up a basket, slipping it over the arm that was holding my coke. I was going to need it. Making my way back down the aisles, I began picking up any title that interested me, reading the back and either scoffing at the plot or putting in the basket.

The basket began to heavy, with things like Lord of the Flies, The Da Vinci Code, The Lorax, and Harry Potter. I admittedly, hadn't read the series yet. I had always planned on it, but never found the time, or the access to the books. More and more books went in as I found such a variety of books I wanted to read. Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. The Lord of the Rings, The Grapes of Wrath, Tom Sawyer. All these books that I hadn't yet discovered but felt like everybody else had. I even considered putting Twilight in my basket, and then mentally slapped myself for being stupid.

Finally I made my way to the front of the store to wait for Aunt Val to return to pay. I hoped she wouldn't be mad at the amount of books I had picked out, but I seriously doubted it. She could pay for it. She had the money. Finally I saw her rushing back towards me.

"Max! Oh, have you been waiting long? Sorry. But I bought you a present. It'll have to wait till we get home since you're going to need help with those books." She told me, seeming actually happy as she stared into my basket.

"The Grapes of Wrath? With Harry Potter? This is most random assortment of books I've ever seen. Haven't you read these yet?" She asked as we piled the books onto the counter to pay for them. I shook my head.

_My parents never took me book shopping. I only read when I could get to the library, which wasn't very often._

"Yet you still love to read. Well I suppose that comes from your grandmother, she was quite the bookworm."

My eyes lit up at that. I had never heard about having a grandmother. And to hear I was a little like her!

In total, I bought thirty four books, spending nearly four hundred dollars. Luckily my Aunt was a club member and got discounts and stuff, so it came down to around three hundred. But still, that was a lot.

_Sorry. I got carried away._

"Don't apologize for anything sweetheart. I wanted to buy those for you or else I would have told you to put them back."

I just nodded and returned my gaze outside. We were on our way back home to meet the furniture and the neighbors. We hadn't had time to go clothes shopping, but Aunt Val said not to worry, since one of the neighbors would be very keen on making sure that I got that done. I had a feeling it was that Nudge girl.

We pulled into the house around two-thirty, and I saw another car, a Mustang, sitting in the garage.

"Oh, they're all here already. They are so impatient." Aunt Val said, laughing a little.

She got out of the car, and when I followed her, turning to get my bags, she motioned for me to leave them there. Begrudgingly, I left all my books in the car, instead grabbing the bag that held everything from the art store. I _had_ to have it with me.

When we walked through the house, I immediately knew there were more than just the two boys here. It wasn't because of the four extra pairs of shoes I saw by the kitchen door. No, I could just feel more people. And I didn't like the feeling.

I clutched my bag close to me and fingered the necklace around my neck, a simple A. As we turned the corner into the lobby, I heard whispering, and my breathing began to pick up.

_Hush, Max. You can do this. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. Nod, write hi, and then complain of headache. Just don't stay too long and you'll be fine._

"Wow! You must be Max! I've waited so long to meet you! Well not really, since we like, just found out about you like a week ago. But still! I've wanted to see you since then, but you got here yesterday, and I wasn't allowed to come over, but Gazzy still could, and he was all like, she's so cool and she plays the piano, and I was like I HAVE to meet her. And now here you are! Oh gosh, are those your clothes? Well don't worry, I'll take you shopping and you'll be in with all the latest trends in no time. Oo what's in the bag?" A mocha skinned curl with curly brown hair that looked about my age blasted at me.

I stared at her, my breaths picking up once more as I felt like they kept getting closer. Nobody seemed to notice my panicked state. Or so I thought.

"Don't crowd her, Nudge." Fang quietly reprimanded.

Nudge seemed to realize I was having a mild spaz out and backed off, though it helped little since they all continued to stare at me. I began seeing spots, but covered it up by trying to slow my breathing down.

"Well, hi. I'm Nudge and I live on the right side of you. Sorry about that. Sometimes I just get so carried away that I start blabbing on, sort of like I'm doing right now, huh? Well okay, I'm going to stop talking." She mimed zipping her lips, and smiled widely at me.

Another girl stepped forward, this one looking a lot like Gazzy, with her slightly curled blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She looked maybe nine, and smiled up at me with this gentleness that I found really comforting, and it eased my nerves a bit.

"Hi. I'm Angel. I'm eight years old, but I'll be nine soon. Gazzy's my brother. I hope you like it here!" She said, tilting her head to the side, her eyes shining at me. Angel, huh? There couldn't be a better word for this girl, especially since she was dress in a pretty pink sundress.

The third person I didn't know, also a girl, smiled shyly at me. She had long brown hair and pretty brown eyes that made my dull ones even duller in comparison. "Hey. I'm Ella. I live across the street, though it's sort of hard to tell, huh?" Ella said quietly. I liked her immediately, since she seemed the quite one of the group.

"And you already know the rest of us. So great! Let's go play a video game or something!" Iggy shouted, making me jump, which caused a sudden feeling of lightheadedness. Gazzy cheered, and they both raced off to who knows where.

"Are you going to come Max? Because it would be great if you did." Angel said.

"I would like it too." Ella added, and my breathing faltered once again as all eyes turned back to me.

_So…many…people…_

"That would be so cool! Then after, we can all go paint your room or something! And tomorrow I am totally taking you shopping! Oh sorry, am I doing it again?" Nudge asked, and she glanced worriedly at me.

_All these eyes… stop staring…_

"Max, are you okay?" Fang questioned, reaching a hand towards me but waiting for the signal that it was okay to touch me.

I didn't have any time to write that he could steady me before I fainted, straight into his arms.

**Me: How was that? Oh and sorry for the Twilight bashing. I'm obviously not a fan -_-'**

**Rebbie: I thought it was anticlimactic.**

**Me: I wasn't asking you.**

**Rebbie: You never are.**

**Me: Anyways… Reviews?**


	4. The Deal

**Me: Is there something wrong with the review button? Is it diseased? Because a bunch of people reviewed the first chapter telling me they would love for me to update, and I've heard from maybe, four of them. I know people are favoriting and alerting, but nobody is reviewing. Come on, even just tell me you read it. Just so I know you actually are.**

**Rebbie: I have to agree with her on this one. For all of her stories the reviews have stopped, which is odd because the traffic rates are still high. You people used to be such brilliant reviewers. What happened?**

**Me: Anyways, enough complaining. Here's the fourth chapter. And maybe, if you like it, could you at least let me know?**

**Max's POV**

"_Mrs. Lucas?"_

"_Yes, Max?"_

"_Will my mom be coming home from work to see me?"_

_Mrs. Lucas, the neighbor, went quiet, making herself look busy organizing my breakfast on the tray she was setting up beside my bed. I was stuck in bed this week due to the chicken pox, so homeschooling and chores were out. My parents hadn't even noticed I was sick until I collapsed in front of the housekeeper from a high fever. She called my mom at work, who called Mrs. Lucas, who rushed over. _

_Turning to me, Mrs. Lucas gave me the best smile she could, but I saw through it._

"_Now, now, Maxie girl. Your mother is working very hard to support you. I'm sure she wants to come home and take care of you, but there are some things that simply can't be ignored, and these are hard times for everyone. I'm here for you, so I hope my old hands can be enough. Now eat up. I don't want this oatmeal going cold." _

_I made a face but complied silently, while Mrs. Lucas went back downstairs to do some of the chores I would be neglecting this week. As I ate, I couldn't help but think of my mother, the mother who wouldn't even leave work to see if her sick child was still alive._

_And that thought made me lose my appetite._

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was that there was something wet on my forehead. Reaching up, I pulled a cold washcloth from my head and brought it in front of my eyes, staring at it blankly. Why did I have a wet cloth on my head?

Blinking a few more times, I wearily sat up and dropped the cloth to my lap. Looking around the room, I realized I was in my bedroom, and it was rather dark. I hit a button on my watch that made it light up, and it read 9:36. Great.

I massaged the bridge of my nose trying to remember how I ended up in my bed.

_Ah, yes. I had a panic attack, and fainted. I think… I think Fang caught me? Maybe he's the one who put me here. I should probably thank him for saving me from a concussion._

Standing up out of bed, I shivered at the cold flooring, frowning at the lack of my blue rug, and shifted over to wear the blue slippers I had Aunt Val buy me were laying. Slipping into them, I opened my door into the bright hall way, shielding my eyes with my hand. Looking to the left and then to the right, I saw nobody and heard nothing.

_Lessee. Iggy's room is across from me, so Fang is the one next to me. I hope he isn't sleeping yet._

I shuffled down the hard wood floor towards the door next to mine, stopping in front of it. Sure enough, a large **F **was painted on the door. I stood there for a few moments, hesitant. Maybe he was sleeping? Maybe he was doing homework? I didn't want to interrupt him.

_Oh just do it._

Sighing, I knocked. Nothing happened. Knocking a little harder, I waited, but again, nothing happened. I waited for a few moments, thinking maybe he heard me and was just taking his time, and my ear twitched. I looked up sharply. I had really sensitive hearing from being alone in a quiet house all the time. My ears had begun picking up the slightest noises. They would twitch when they heard a noise I wasn't paying attention to, causing me to focus in on the noise in that direction, which is what had just happened.

Down the hall and up the stairs, on the third floor. It had been a voice. I was sure of it.

Walking slowly down towards the stairs, I began to hone in on the noise I was hearing. Sure enough, directly above the staircase were voices. It sounded like arguing. I don't know how I missed it before.

I made my way up the stairs, taking each step carefully and quietly, though it wasn't hard to do since my slippers made it almost effortless to walk silently on the hard wood. The voices had gone silent, so I stopped moving. My ear twitched again, and I turned in the direction it had heard the squeak of something, most likely a chair, so I was facing a door. I took a few steps closer, then leaned my head against the wall beside the door, so I could hear what was being said.

"I think she deserves to know!" Someone said roughly. It sounded like Fang.

"She is much too fragile, too jumpy. She is not ready." Another voice answered, this one most definitely Aunt Val.

"And when do you honestly think she'll be ready for news like that? You can't seriously think you're just going to wait til she settles in and gets used to us before you tell her. That'd only put her walls back up faster." Fang argued angrily. I was honestly shocked. I had only been here a day, but he didn't seem the type to be so… emotional.

"There's no possible way I can tell my recently orphaned niece the amount of money she has now become the sole heir to! She is already baring a very heavy load; do you know how much responsibility being an heiress to my estate is? Goodness gracious and she doesn't even speak!" Aunt Val heatedly retorted.

I stepped back from the wall, my hand over my mouth in shock. I was the heir to this house, to this land? I was to inherit Aunt Val's money, her land, her house, her business, which I still didn't know was, and just everything she owned? Aunt Val was right, that's a lot of responsibility. I can't handle all of that… I was barely able to handle the few items I owned. I hadn't even graduated high school yet, or picked out what I wanted to do, or anything! How on earth could I be an heiress? How could I be responsible for so much when all I've known was so little?

Shaking, I put my ear back to the wall.

"It's not even like she's fit to be an heiress. She'd have to represent me at parties, social functions, press conferences. She'd have to speak, wear dressy clothing, and heaven forbid it, smile. She can't even smile. And she'd need to _be_ a rich girl. She couldn't just pretend to be one. No more Dunkin Donuts, or low end pizza. I wouldn't tolerate it. When she's ready for that, then she'll know. For now we can only hope to coax her gently from her shell as she grieves her parents." Aunt Val said wearily, and I heard the squeaking of a chair, as if she had sat down suddenly in it.

I had heard enough, I turned and fled silently down the stairs, back down the hallway, and into my room, shutting my door almost with a slam. She doesn't even want me as an heiress. And even if she did, she expected me to give up huge portions of my life!

Sliding down the door and leaning my head back against it, I replayed the conversation I had just heard over and over. I practically saw the words swimming through my mind as everything I would have to give up in exchange for this life she wanted for me listed itself for me. No more jeans. No more sketchbooks. No more Dunkin Donuts', or pizza, or Chinese food. How would I fit in piano time? How would I do what I want to do?

Curling forward, my forehead met my bent knees as my arms wrapped around them. I held back frustrated and angry tears as the two lives battled for dominance in my head.

An heiress? I couldn't be. I wouldn't be. I shouldn't be. Aunt Val was right, I'm not heiress material, I don't even talk. I don't do dresses, and I would certainly never attend a social function. How on earth does she think I'd be ready for that? And why did she suddenly drop this now? I mean, who was going to get the estate if my parents never died? Would it still go to us? My parents were no longer connected to Aunt Val, so I would assume not… Why on earth did I become the next in line then?

I felt a head ache coming on, so confused and a little betrayed, I took of my slippers and flopped onto my bed, trying to ignore the words replaying in my mind. I soon fell into a restless sleep filled with donuts in prom dresses.

**Fang's POV**

"You don't understand where we come from." I whispered quietly.

Val looked up from where she sat, her head in her hands on her desk, with sadness, but also a pang of guilt.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, tired and worn.

"Max is like me and Iggy now. Try all you want, you are not her biological parent. It's easier for us because we've been with you a long time. She just got here. If you wait, and then tell her, any trust, and love, and bond that builds between you guys, is going to break because you kept this huge secret. If you tell her now, there will still be time to heal." I said softly, praising myself mentally for this moment of wisdom. It was true though, however hard it was for me to spit it out full force.

Val sighed, giving me a small smile. "When did you become so wise?"

I shrugged.

"It still doesn't change the fact she simply isn't fit to be an heiress to someone like me. I can't have someone who eats Dunkin Donuts, or wears ripped jeans, and talks through a notebook, represent me at conferences or parties. She's a beautiful girl, but she's needs to work on her self-confidence, and her self-image, and most certainly her social skills. I stand by what I said. When she is fit to be an heiress, I will tell her. She will be able to handle it more properly then, I believe." As Val had been talking, her color had been returning and her eyes had been brightening as I assumed she was thinking of what Max would appear like as an heiress. Then all at once she deflated again.

"But I am too busy with work and running this estate? How could I possibly manage such a task as turning that child into a lady?" Val muttered, seemingly forgetting I existed as she rested her cheek back on her hand.

Then, as if it were an epiphany, she jumped up and pointed at me. "You!"

I jumped, startled. "Me?"

Val came around her desk and placed her hands on my shoulders, smiling grandly.

"Yes! Haven't you said that you and your band are looking for a gig now? But you need someone eighteen or older to sign off. Well 'cough' I'm eighteen or older, so I'll happily sign you for a gig at that place, whatever it is."

Instead of cheering like I think she was waiting for, I stared dubiously at her. "You hate the idea of our band."

"Yes, I do… But! Let's make a deal! If you can say, make Max an heiress, I'll happily sign off on whatever you want. In fact, if you can do it by the end of the school year, which is in fact eight months, I'll get you a record deal and support you for three years, no questions asked." Val said happily, grinning up at me like she had just told me I had won the lottery. Which for the band, I suppose I kind of had.

"You expect a group of guys in a band with no experience with dresses and such to be able to turn a girl who doesn't speak, has few social skills, and hates shopping, into an heiress, in eight months?" I asked incredulously.

"You have Nudge." Val reminded me, shaking my shoulders a little.

As if a light went on over my head, the actual possibility of us pulling this off sparked, and I felt real hope for my band start blooming. I stuck my hand out. "Deal."

Val grinned. "Deal."

Now to break it to the guys.

**Me: So this was just to get that very important part of the story that's kind of the whole part of the story out. Pretty cool, huh?**

**Rebbie: Sooooo cooool.**

**Me: My cat is sleeping on my foot. Well his head is resting on it anyways. I don't know what to do.**

**Rebbie: Soooo cool.**

**Me: Reviews? And don't you dare say soooo coooool Rebbie.**

**Rebbie: soooo not cool.**


	5. The Plan?

**Me: Hey guys! I just want to thank you soooo much for the reviews! It means so much to me to know you guys actually read my authors note and reviewed, even just to tell me to update. I was floored with reviews, and I was like 'Omg, people actually **_**are**_** reading my story!'**

**Rebbie: She was quite ecstatic… it was kind of pathetic.**

**Me: Nobody asked you. Anyways, here's the next chapter! **

**Fang's POV**

"You're kidding, right?" Iggy asked incredulously.

"There's no possible way you think _we_ can pull this off!" Gazzy added skeptically.

"Don't get me wrong, she seems like a sweet girl. But turning her into an heiress? In eight months? I have to say, man, I don't think you thought this through." Sam commented, shaking his head at me slightly as he drummed a light beat.

"We have Nudge." I reminded them from where I sat on the piano bench. It was the same tactic Val had used on me, but by the way each of their eyes widened, I knew it would work on them the same way it had worked on me.

"I'm so in! Nudge will be elated!" Iggy cheered, strumming a fun chord on his guitar.

"Fame and fortune, here we come!" Gazzy cried, pumping a fist in the air. He and Iggy high-fived. I admit, I was amazed at how fast the teenage boy could change his mind to suit his needs, but when we did have the advantage, even I knew that this was nearly impossible to fail.

"Well, this just might be possible. I just have one question, Fang." Sam asked, his drum beat stopping. I glanced over at him. "How do you intend to get her to speak?"

I hadn't thought about it. It had only been a day, and honestly, I had been too happy at the idea of Val helping our band that I hadn't begun to actually plan how we were going to turn Max into an heiress. And I knew most of that was going to fall onto Nudge anyway. Though, first we had to get Max to _like _and _tolerate_ Nudge, which might take a little bit.

"No idea." I replied simply.

I saw Sam raise an eyebrow at me. Iggy and Gazzy were too busy rambling on about what they could do with the band if we became famous to notice we were actually trying to think of how to make our plan work. I looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, going over everything I had learned of Max in the short two days she had been here.

"You'll talk to her."

Sam's eyes widened. "Me? Why me?"

"She likes you. You like her." I said simply, meeting his eyes. He didn't deny it, but he was still doubtful.

"I don't know. I mean, I've only ever talked to her twice. You don't really think she's going to spill her whole story to me simply because she has a crush, do you?" He asked skeptically, and I shrugged. No, I didn't, but it was the only plan I had right now.

"Just give it a shot."

I knew Sam was going to say something more, but just then Max walked through the door to the band room. Her notebook was already held up in front of her as she stared silently at the ground, closing the door behind her.

_Hope you don't mind if I watch._

We each replied with various 'not at alls' and our conversation was left for some other time. I knew the guys behind me were watching Max out of the corner of their eyes as she took my place on the piano bench. I knew, because I was doing it too. How were we supposed to change her into an heiress without her realizing what we were doing? Especially without overwhelming her.

Today, she was wearing a worn and slightly faded plain navy t-shirt over ripped jeans. I noticed she now wore brand new blue slippers, but they were very out of place and she slipped them off as soon as she sat down to curl her feet under her on the bench. As we set up I took a few glances back at her, trying to study her without her noticing, but it appeared she wasn't paying attention to us at all, her eyes staring blankly at a sketchbook as she doodled something.

I took this time to see her appearance, whereas before I had been really focusing on her reactions or reading her notebook. She curled in on herself, even more so when she was sitting, making herself looking smaller than I knew she was standing. Her hair was a dark dirty blonde, almost light brown in color, and was back in a braid, strands falling out on the sides of her face. Her skin was a sort of sun-kissed gold, pale but tinted with a honey color. I could see her eyes, even from the odd angle, and could tell they were a light, creamy brown, but when she looked up suddenly and met my eyes, they were hard and cold, and if I hadn't been good at hiding my own emotions, I wouldn't have seen the confusion or pang of sadness that shot through them.

But I did.

It only made me even more determined to get to the bottom of this. I wanted to figure out Max, maybe not just for the band. Maybe I wanted to do it for her as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Max's POV<strong>

It was odd being in this room with Fang after hearing that conversation yesterday. I was trying to behave normally, but I guess there wasn't really a normal for me quite yet, so I just tried to keep my mind off of things by drawing useless doodles in my sketchbook. All my drawings had been off since the fire, so I had begun to start small, hoping I could regain that inspiration I once contained for sketching everything and anything.

I could tell all the guys were watching me, but trying not to make it obvious. I had that uncanny ability to know when someone was watching me. It came with being paranoid when you're alone for so long in a house so young, especially at night. My senses just picked up on it.

It irritated me because I had no idea _why _they were staring at me. I mean, they had no problem with me two days ago. In fact, they very nearly accepted me right away two days ago. So what was up with them today? Was I really behaving differently? Was it odd for me to doodle? Was I doing something wrong? Maybe they just felt bad for me. They probably knew I was the heiress too, and knew I didn't know, and felt bad because I was this crummy, poor, orphaned girl who was far from heiress material, whereas they were all rich and probably the heirs to big-shot companies.

What bothered me most though was the fact I could feel Fang studying me. I wasn't sure what type of observation he was doing, but whatever it was, I didn't like being under watch. I didn't know if he was looking for something in particular, or just feeling bad for me for my lack of 'heiress' etiquette. Either way, I was beginning to feel my skin crawl with his eyes on me like that.

I looked up sharply to meet his eyes, and was surprised when, instead of pity or concern, both of which I was sick of, I saw curiosity. It was like he was trying to read me like a book, trying to figure me out just by watching me. I mean, of course he was trying to do it while setting up for band practice so his focus was a little off, but it was still new.

Sure I had people stare at me and try to understand me before, but there had always been an underlying sense of fear or guilt or pity for me. Yes, fear the girl who won' talk. Pity the girl that lives practically on her own. Feel guilty because you've done nothing to help. But he showed none of that. He was just genuinely curious. And I appreciated it.

But I felt bad, too, because I would never live up to the expectations he and my Aunt had set for me, supposedly without me knowing. I would never be the heiress they wanted me to be. And I would be gone before they really had a chance to do anything about it, so it didn't matter anyway.

I had read the newspaper this morning. I was a little surprised Aunt Val even got the newspaper, but she did. Four different ones. I found that a little redundant since most of them were going to say the same thing. Weather, obituaries, sports wins, etc. My house fire had been moved from the headline to its own mini-article on the third page, just mentioning how a relative had found me and that the arsonist was still at large. Yay. I didn't really care. If the arsonist was caught, he was caught. If he wasn't he wasn't. If it was even the 'he' the police suspected him to be. It didn't matter to me. I was looking for the job listings.

There were quite a few, but most of them were really difficult or required someone eighteen or older. I was only sixteen so there went that. Most of the other ones that were left over were so lame I wouldn't even think of them. Plus I needed to find a job that didn't require talking. I had finally found one. A really good one.

A high end restaurant was looking for a talented pianist to play classical music for evening and weekend shifts for the customers. Well, I'm a talented pianist. Their phone number, address, and website was listed underneath the listing, so I went on the website on Aunt Val's computer in the library and filled out an application. I had added in the comments box that I was mute, but had twelve years of experience and knew most classical numbers. I asked that if they wanted to contact me, to email me. I still had an email, even though I had a lack of computer. I was really hoping for the job.

I knew this type of job would pay well. Then I could buy my own car, and I would save enough money to leave. I was going. I didn't care where, but I had been trapped by authority and rules too long. I wanted to be my own person, live by my own rules. I wasn't going to be anybody's heiress.

I had hardly realized the guys had finished three songs already. I looked up, startled, as a fourth song began, the guitar strums quiet, the drum beats soft, and the bass light. Even Fang's voice got softer, which after how rough and loud he could make it last night, I was impressed with it. But all too soon it was over and they began packing up. Fang and Sam seemed to be having a silent argument over something, but I ignored most of it, casting it aside as a useless band thing.

I played a few random keys on the grand piano to get their attention as they put away their instruments.

_May I stay? I'd like to use the piano._

"Feel free." Fang replied, and as I turned to warm up by playing Scales and Arpeggios from the Aristocats, I heard whispers from the doorway. Since my back was to them, I think they thought I couldn't hear them, but I could.

"Do it!" "No." "Just do it." "No!" I think there was a glare here, because the second voice suddenly whisper-shouted "Fine!"

I heard the sound of feet shuffling nervously and the sound of the other pair walk away, although the one walking away was significantly lighter. The pair shuffling nervously walked closer to me before I finally looked up to meet Sam's eyes.

"Hey." He said simply. "Mind if I sit?"

I stared at him for a few moments, hesitant. I didn't really know what he wanted, but I don't think it was to listen to me play. He certainly wouldn't have argued with Fang over that. But, reluctantly, I nodded, scooting over a bit to make room on the piano bench. He smiled grandly, uselessly pushing the brown bangs away from his eyes, though they were stuck there because of his hat.

I began to randomly play notes, very aware of the person sitting next to me, who seemed as if he wanted to be anywhere else. Sam was looking anywhere but at me, appearing to be struggling to find the right words to say.

"You know, Max."

I inwardly groaned. It was the three words. The terrible three words that began every lecture the orphanage had given me, every lecture by the housekeeper, every lecture by social services. You know, Max. You know, Max, your parents loved you. You know, Max, that this isn't your fault. You know that we are here for you. You know that you can tell us anything. You know that we care for you. You know things will get better. You know it won't always be like this. You know its okay to grieve, to cry, to blame someone. You know, Max.

Yes. I know.

It doesn't change anything.

Before he could say anything more, I raised my hand to stop him from speaking. He had opened his mouth to say something else and awkwardly closed it again, staring at me expectantly. I reached for the notebook beside me, jotting something down. After a few moments of staring at my own writing, I held the notebook in my lap, propping it up against my arms for Sam to read.

He stared at my question, looking confused. I knew he was pondering the relevance of my question to what he was about to say. Nevertheless, he stuttered out an answer.

"Heights, I guess."

I sighed, expecting this, but disappointed all the same. The answers were never different. Never what I was looking for. The people never understood why I asked the question. And because of that, I would never tell them that I knew. Because until I found someone who answered the question right, who understood and empathized with me about why I asked it, it would never change a thing. You know, Max. They would never know I knew until then.

Closing the lid over the keys, I wrote _Thanks_ and then gathered my sketchbook and notebook before slipping back into my slippers and going back upstairs to begin organizing my room, leaving a very confused and somewhat disappointed Sam behind. As I left, I heard three pairs of feet go rushing back into the band room and the sound of questioning began, but I knew they wouldn't get their answers. Nobody ever did. Not from me, and not for me.

I sighed again as I stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the words on my notebook. Why was it such a hard question?

_What are you afraid of?_

**Me: Sorry for the delay, I was in Jersey. Anyways, did ya like it? Plan 1 of Fang's Plan failed… what's next?**

**Rebbie: I don't think even you know that.**

**Me: Ignoring…**

**Rebbie: Don't ignore me!**

**Me: Reviews are lovely, wonderful readers!**


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